


Nourishment

by Lhugy_for_short



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Crime Drama, Hannibal AU, Hannibal!Ignis, M/M, Tags to be updated as I work this thing out, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 18:44:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16749586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lhugy_for_short/pseuds/Lhugy_for_short
Summary: Suffering nightmares in the aftermath of his father's murder, Noctis Lucis Caelum is sent to a well-known if...unconventional psychiatrist, Dr. Ignis Scientia. But the lines of their relationship become blurred, and Noct has to choose between his sanity and his friendship with a monster.





	Nourishment

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks! I have so many other projects to be working on, but luckily(?) for you, I also have no self-control. This idea popped into my head after binging half of Season 2 of Hannibal, and I had to get it out. This will be continued eventually and tags will be updated as the violence/sexy times ramp up ;) 
> 
> Comments and suggestions welcome!!!

 

The immense space of the room always amazed him. Even now as he sat in his usual spot on the dark, leather sofa, he found his eyes wandering to take it all in. The vaulted ceiling, the loft lined with bookshelves, even the French windows that stretched up from the floor, narrow and glowing with light from the garden - it all seemed to fit together like pieces of a mechanism, some tool that served a singular purpose. 

To make him feel infinitesimally small. 

“Noctis?” 

He blinked, rapidly as if coming out of a waking dream, and lifted his gaze to the source of the voice. Pools of green watched him closely in return. “Are you with me?”

“Um. Y-yeah, yeah. I'm here.” Again Noct blinked his eyes, more out of embarrassment this time than from what the doctor liked to call ‘ _ temporal disorientation. _ ’ “Sorry, I'm just tired today. I, um, didn't get much sleep last night.”

Ever astute, the man seated across from him tapped his pen on the notebook in his lap. “The nightmares again?”

“Not…not exactly. More like regular dreams, but. Uh. Nevermind.”

The pen stopped moving. Its tip hovered just above the paper, poised and waiting in the grip of a man used to being incredibly patient. “I'd like you to elaborate, Noctis. Please, go on.” Voice like music, the doctor was hard to refuse and  _ he knew it _ . 

Still, Noct took a moment to tug at the string dangling from the sleeve of his sweatshirt before answering. “They were dreams. Normal ones. …You were in some of them.”

“Me?”

Noctis nodded, almost imperceptibly. Across from him, Dr. Scientia hummed. “Well…. I suppose if you're having dreams about your psychiatric sessions, it means they're having a positive effect on your psyche. We should take it as a good sign.”

_ Right, that _ . Noct didn't bother to correct him. Probably better he assumed it was professional, that Noct had been sitting on this sofa in his dreams rather than  _ lying  _ on it. More specifically - and it was nearly impossible to hide the warmth that flushed to his cheeks at the thought - lying on it  _ under _ his therapist, who, at least in Noct’s fantasy, had seen fit to give him a much more  _ hands on _ session than usual. 

Sharp green eyes were watching him from behind even sharper lenses, and Noct knew he needed to react. He was being evaluated, after all, wasn't he? 

“Um. Yeah. Fingers crossed we can work all the crazy out of me soon.”

“...No one thinks you're crazy.”

“I do.” Shrugging, Noct focused again on the string he'd slowly been ripping from its seam. “So do the papers, that's what they wrote about me. That's why I’m being made to see you, right?” 

A creak of leather as the doctor shifted in his chair. He folded his left leg over his right and set his pen down to indicate that Noctis had his undivided attention. “By ‘papers,’ I take it you mean that article published by Dino Ghiranze. He is…hardly a journalist, and even less of a reputable source of information. And I expect he'd drag his own name through the dirt if he saw enough money in it.” 

“People still read his blog.”

“People are easily swayed by blood and blame. They wanted the sensationalized version of your father’s murder and looked to the first explanation offered - the son who found his body.” The gloved hand that reached out for him took Noctis by surprise. Dr. Scientia had never touched him, even something so simple yet comforting as fingers resting on his knee, and he felt compelled to lift his gaze again. “You are not crazy. You are not your father’s killer,” that lilting voice continued, catching Noct’s breath somewhere in his throat. “You were convinced of that not so long ago. Do not let their stories confuse the truth your memories harbor. Remember who you are.” 

Slowly, when Noct neither spoke nor reacted, the hand on his leg withdrew. Along with it went the tightness that had constricted his throat, as well as some of his own warmth. Cold swept in to fill its place; cold and fear and uncertainty. “I'm Noctis Lucis Caelum,” he started, the ritualistic words coming to him even as his arms wrapped protectively around his suddenly empty chest. “It’s one forty-two pm, and I'm in Dr. Scientia’s office in downtown Insomnia.” 

“Good, Noctis. How are you feeling?” 

“Vulnerable.” 

“Breathe. It's just a mild panic attack, it will pass.” 

“I'm Noctis Lucis Caelum,” he repeated, though his voice was losing conviction. Even with his eyes open he could see it: his father’s body hanging from the dining room ceiling, eviscerated by the very hooks from which he was suspended, his face slack with terror, with death. “It's one forty-three pm, and I'm in Dr. Scientia’s office in downtown Insomnia.” 

Was he, though? This didn't look like a psychiatrist’s room anymore, it looked too familiar. Too recent. Right there was the dinner table his father had been seated at only hours before. Below it was the rug the police would later discover drenched in blood, placed under Regis’s corpse like a decoration, or perhaps a signature. And there, too, was Noctis, sitting in his father’s chair, hands a dark red and trembling; his eyes were wide, wet, unseeing.  

_ What have I done? _

“I’m N-Noctis…Lucis Caelum. It's nine oh-three pm, and I'm… _ home _ .”

* * *

The water felt like heaven to his parched throat. A second sip, a third, and finally Noct was human again. Still tired, of course, both from his sleepless night and the panic attack that had left him sobbing on the floor of the office - but human all the same.

And then there was his doctor. Silent in understanding, watching him from his position again the kitchen counters without judgement or pity. Noct was grateful to him for that. He was grateful to him for many things. 

“Um, thanks, Doctor Scientia. I feel better now.” 

“When we're in my kitchen, I'll ask that you please call me Ignis,” he smiled, and reached forward to accept the empty glass. “This is…unconventional, I must admit. But for you, Noct, I'm willing to break a few rules.” 

Maybe his gloved fingers lingered for a moment next to Noct’s on the glass, or maybe it was just his imagination. And since  _ that _ was becoming harder and harder to trust, Noct brushed the thought aside and focused on what he knew was real. “You’ve, um. Got a really nice place. It’s like, really clean.”

He didn’t think he’d ever heard the doctor laugh before, but he was pretty sure he liked the sound of it. “Thank you. I’m afraid I’m often too busy to make messes. A house this large is honestly wasted on one person.”

“You live alone?” Noct asked before he could stop himself, and immediately winced at his own stupid words.

The doctor, however, was still smiling. “Yes. Does that surprise you, Noctis?”   

“A...little. I thought, I mean. Someone like you….” He shrugged as casually as he could manage. “Forget I said anything.”

“If that’s what you wish.” 

Despite the water, Noct’s throat was going dry again. He cleared it, let his eyes fall to the expensive-looking set of knives on the counter, and left them there. “Do you cook?”

Movement. “I do. It’s one of the few joys I have outside of my work,” the doctor - no,  _ Ignis _ \- said as he took up position at Noct’s side and began to run his gloved fingertips over the handles of the knives. “Cooking has been a passion of mine for years, ever since I discovered the thrill of working with new and...exotic ingredients.” Green eyes turned to him, clear even in the dim light of the kitchen. “You once mentioned you were a picky eater, Noct.”

“Uh, yeah, I am. Good memory.” 

“It stuck with me, actually, when you said that. I wasn’t sure I would have the chance, of course, but….” He trailed off as he withdrew one of the knives from its holder. The blade was sharp, clean, enough to set Noct’s heart quickening in his chest at the sight of it. “Someday I would love to cook for you, Noctis. If you’ll let me.”

Yeah, his imagination  _ had  _ to be playing tricks on him again. The glint of the knife, the creak of leather as Ignis palmed it, squeezing expertly. The way his dress shirt tightened when he moved his arm to test the blade’s weight, and the collar pulled back to reveal smooth skin, distinct ridges dusted with a pinch of freckles.  _ So elegant _ , Noct thought as he swallowed on instinct.  _ It’s not fair. I’m not supposed to want my therapist. That’s what this is, right? A crush? _

“That...sounds awesome. Sure.” 

“Wonderful,” Ignis brightened. “I do hope your picky palate will challenge me. It’s been a long time since I had someone to impress.”

“O-oh.” Noct didn’t know what to say to that, so he opted to say nothing. Instead watched Ignis replace the knife in the holder, and push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

“By the way.” 

“Hm?” 

“I can’t help but notice you haven’t mentioned your friend of late. Prompto, was it?” 

Whatever Noct had been expected, it wasn’t  _ that. _ Suddenly, the atmosphere of the kitchen shifted, cooler as if he were back on the sofa in the other room. “Prom, yeah. I dunno, he started seeing someone a couple weeks ago. Guess we haven’t had much time to hang out.” 

“Oh? You’ll have to forgive me for being presumptuous, but I had the impression that the two of you were...romantic.”

Blue eyes went as round as his cheeks went hot. “You... _ what?! _ Me a-and Prom? Why would you think--?”

“Just a guess. I see now that I was wrong.” Ignis held a hand up in apology, but even Noctis couldn’t miss the twitch of amusement at the corners of his mouth. “You spoke of him so often that it was hard not to draw my own conclusions about the nature of your relationship.” 

“N-no, it’s okay. He is like, my best friend, so I’m kinda grossed out, but you’re not...wrong. About me, I mean.”  _ Gods, _ if his face got any hotter it was going to melt right off and fall onto the doctor’s kitchen floor. “I like guys, is what I mean.”

However Ignis interpreted that answer, he kept it to himself. That was the doctor’s strength, after all, wasn’t it? What made him so good at his job was his ability to take information in stride, never letting his mask down until he wanted to, until it served some purpose. Here, he clearly saw no need to share how he was feeling; he was not the patient under scrutiny, after all. 

“I see. That’s something you’ve never mentioned before during our sessions.”

“It never came up,” Noct deflected. “It didn’t seem important.” 

“ _ Hm. _ ” Another stoic response in the face of Noct’s own staggering embarrassment. It was as frustrating as it was a relief. At least in remaining distant, Ignis wasn’t going to outright reject him. 

“Um. Prompto’s into guys, too, so I guess you weren’t wrong about him, either. His new boyfriend is a cop, or something like that. I haven’t met him yet.” 

“I suppose you have more reasons than most to avoid the law, after what you’ve been through.”

“Can we not talk about that anymore?” Noct blurted out. He was growing anxious again, embarrassment igniting the panic that lingered always just under the surface. “I don’t…. I don’t wanna have another episode.” 

“Of course. My apologies, Noctis. Your session was technically over some time ago, but old habits die hard.” 

He met that green gaze again, found it softer now in genuine concern. “It’s okay. I guess it’s hard to have a normal conversation with someone you’re supposed to be evalling for the state.”

“I am not evaluating you right now, for what that’s worth. As soon as we stepped out of that room, you became less my patient, and more a guest in my house.” 

“...Now that sounds  _ really _ unconventional.”  

Ignis chuckled again, and the sound of it did something to soothe the itch of anxiety beneath Noct’s skin. “Oh, most definitely. Unethical, some might argue.” 

This time when Ignis moved closer, there was no mistaking the warmth, the tingle of proximity as the hairs on Noct’s arm stood on end. He couldn’t blame this one on crossed wires or a spatial lapse. “...W-why’s that?” 

“Because of how I see you, Noctis. How I’ve tried and failed to stop myself from seeing you since that first time you sat on my couch and told me you were ‘broken.’” 

A tremble started, first low in Noct’s gut and then moving upward, pushing the air from his lungs and hot, stinging tears to the backs of his eyes. “How...do you see me?”

Ignis was so close. Close enough, he realized, to kiss if he’d had the strength to push himself up onto his toes. “I see you as someone I could become friends with, Noctis. In fact, I would like that very much.” 

“Friends,” he repeated. Now his lips had gone as dry as his throat, and he flicked his tongue out to wet them. “Yeah. I’d like that, too. Ignis.”   

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
